


wrap me in pink

by toplinson (crybaby)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Fingering, M/M, Rimming, also warning for cliche ending, harry says he's seventeen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crybaby/pseuds/toplinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <br/>
    <i>He's got a face to match the voice, his eyes a bit sparkly and his lips a bit pink and Louis decides he must me a sex-kitten; must be a little minx that claws at the sheets and purrs as he gets fucked.</i>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>(Harry is a server at a strip club and Louis is famous. They fuck)</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	wrap me in pink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweetwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetwords/gifts).



> wooooooow this is literally so shit and i have fallen asleep four times while readong through this so warning for a mass amount of errors and a very shitty piece of writing wow i'm sorry goodnight  
> i'm so sorry to say this is for [flor](http://larrystylinsons.tumblr.com/). i pinkie promise i will write something better for you. maybe i'll dedicate my halloween thing to you yay
> 
> **DISCLAIMER: I don't own anyone or anything.**

When Louis had first taken off, he'd been soaring high on his new high income and the influx of new friends in his life. His name was everywhere, his face plastered on magazines and posters and albumn covers.

 

But with the popularity, came pretty leggy girls who were to be draped over Louis' arm, for cameras to flash and plaster the image of _Louis Tomlinson, New Playboy_ over every ragmag and newspaper in several countries.

 

 Thoughts of pretty boys being introduced to his friends and family or pretty boys on his arm in public were stuffed into a box which Louis could only think of fondly, hidden far back, too deep in the closet.

 

 

 

On Thursdays, Louis earns a treat.

 

It’s a simple treat, common to the miserable married man, but costing a larger sum when a face is as well-known as his.

 

On Thursdays, he wears dark sunglasses and pulls his hoodie over his eyes and takes a seat in a shiny leather booth.

 

On Thursdays, his team gives him the go ahead to go drinking, having pictures of him with a pretty brunette ready to be posted on social networks so make alibi.

 

On Thursdays, he drinks the first drink that pops to mind, sits back and feels the electric thrum of sticky music, from his toes to his neck.

 

On Thursdays, he can sit back and watch as an impossibly pretty boy slides his well-oiled body down a well-oiled pole, or rids himself of a kitsch costume, one sequinned tassel at a time.

 

So it's no surprise that it's a Thursday when.

 

'What can I get you?'

 

Louis tears his eyes from the golden skin closest to him, to the source of what he thinks he would describe as a 'sex-line operator’s' voice. Or perhaps a 'sex-kitten'. Perhaps.

 

He's got a face to match the voice, his eyes a bit sparkly and his lips a bit pink and Louis decides he must me a sex-kitten; must be a little minx that claws at the sheets and purrs as he gets fucked.

 

Louis' favourite is what's on him, wrapping up the sweet little gift of his body.  The boy smooths the bubble-gum pink fabric over his thighs as he waits for Louis' answer, as Louis just takes sweet time to drag his eyes over candyfloss-pink tennis shoes, and white cotton socks that stop just under mid-calf, thin knees and smooth thighs and a short skirt that wraps up to where it's tight at his waist and nips his body in, before a tempting strip of buttercream skin and a short sleeved shirt.

 

Louis eyes the pink over his shoulders, the bow beneath the hollow of his throat, back up the pale line of his neck to settle on his glossy lips. He must be too young to work here. His eyes are innocent and bright and his smile is trusting and inviting and his face is soft. He looks like he’s just skirting at puberty.

 

‘You can get me a scotch,’ he say, ready to pull off the hood of his sweater and look the boy in the eye, give him a wink, get him into his bed. But he knows that’s silly, so he keeps his head down.

 

The boy grins and turns away, his hips flicking in a way that makes his skirt swish with the sway of his hips. Louis watches after him until he can’t see him anymore before he reluctantly looks back to where the oiled body gyrates on the oiled floor.

 

 

 

 

 

Louis watches as thin fingers set a tumbler down in front of him, liquid dark and ice making the glass sweat.

 

‘Will that be all?’ his voice purrs. Louis wants to hear him whimper his name, claw his at his back, bite his neck.

 

Louis lets his eyes sweep over him again, biting into his lower lip and itching to push his hood off his forehead and use his name to get the boy on his back.

 

‘I’m alright,’ he sighs, slouching back into the booth and gluing his eyes to the bulging muscles. The boy lingers at his table a second longer before he saunters off.

 

Louis leaves shortly after.

 

 

 

 

 

When Louis goes back next Thursday, the young boy in his pink school girl uniform is bobbing at his booth in seconds.

 

‘What can I get you?’ he purrs, his fingers stretching out over the wooden table-top.

 

‘Surprise me,’ Louis replies, eyes transfixed to where some twinky boy grinds the length of his body down a pole. The sex-kitten huffs and Louis watches him sashay away from under the edge of his beanie, smiling softly after him.

 

He brings him back a large jar, black straws bobbing from the neck.

 

‘I hate sangria,’ Louis tells him after he’s set it down and the boy grins.

 

‘I could drink it with you?’ the boy offers.

 

Louis shrugs and casts an eye over the club. It’s empty enough that the server probably won’t be needed. ‘Alright.’

 

The boy slips in the booth next to him, sliding up close to him so his body presses along the side of Louis’ as he reaches for a black straw, pulling the jar closer.

 

He joins him in watching the gyrating twink, shifting to cross one leg over the other. Louis’ eyes drop to wear his skirt shifts to show off more of his unblemished upper thigh, the bone of his ankle pressing to Louis’ shin.

 

‘Levi’s very good,’ the minx compliments, taking a long sip of Louis’ drink.

 

Louis hums in agreement, his cock giving a twitch to aid argument. He can see the boy eye his crotch from the corner of his vision.

 

‘What’s your name?’ he asks.

 

‘Are you allowed to get this personal with customers?’ Louis asks back, trying to keep the smile out his voice. He avoids looking at the boy in case he recognizes him.

 

The boy pauses to take a sip, watching the twinky boy slip into the lap of a man in the sparse crowd. ‘I can do whatever I want,’ he giggles, and Louis doesn’t find it enduring, ‘so what is your name?’

 

‘Louis.’

 

‘What do you do Louis?’ his voice is slow and sticky, and he stretches Louis’name out like a good drag of a cigarette, or a good orgasm.

 

‘What’s your name?’ Louis counters. The boy rubs his toes up Louis’ calf and Louis shifts.

 

‘Everyone in the club calls me baby doll, but you can call me Harry.’

 

‘Do you like to be babied, Harry?’

 

Harry ignores him. ‘What do you do Louis?’ Harry tries to look him in the eye and Louis can see the twist of a smirk on his lips. It makes him look older, and Louis wants to wipe it away until he’s all swollen lips and raw kiss.

 

‘I work in the entertainment industry.’

 

‘Well, that’s a bit vague, innit? I mean, I also work in the entertainment industry, technically.’

 

Louis giggles with him then, leaning in to take a sip from the black straw not occupied by succulent lips.

 

‘How old are you?’ Louis asks, minutes of silence having stretched over them.

 

‘Nineteen,’ Harry says with a naughty grin, his dimples popping as he takes another sip.

 

‘How old are you really?’

 

Harry giggles before he answers: ‘Turned seventeen two weeks ago. Told them I was nineteen, gave them a fake ID, and no-one questioned anything.’

 

Louis nods and tries to pay attention to the new boy on the stage, not the one next to him, running the toe of his tennis shoe up his inner calf.

 

 

 

 

 

When Louis gets home, he falls into bed and dreams of a boy with pink lips and green eyes and spidery fingers that scratch down his back. He wakes up with dried come on his chest and in his sheets.

 

 

 

 

 

He goes back to the club on a Tuesday, when his imagination runs out of reference for his late night and early morning and midday wanks. He goes in with hid head ducked low, slipping into an empty booth, taps his fingers against the table and waits until there’s pink in his peripherals. Before Harry can speak, he cuts him off with:

 

‘Are you a virgin?’

 

Harry furrows his brow but shakes his head.

 

‘When do you get off work?’

 

Harry’s forehead creases. ‘Eleven.’

 

Louis nods, checks his watch. ‘Meet me outside at eleven. Stay in your uniform.’

 

 

 

 

 

Louis leans back against the brickwork, cigarette poised between his lips as his watch ticks. He puffs out a thin cloud as the front door opens; Harry steps toward him as Louis looks him up and down. He looks a bit absurd, his upper half in a navy pea coat while his legs are bare to the cold weather.

 

Louis nudges him towards where his driver idles across the road.

 

Harry reaches for his hand after Louis stubs out his cigarette, his cheeks a light pink before Louis links their fingers and they jog across the deserted road. Louis pulls open the door for Harry and shuffles him in.

 

His driver starts on the way to his flat, and Louis settles a hand on Harry’s thigh as Harry leans in to him and pinches his hood between his fingertips, pushing it back. He bites his lip, his teeth biting into the flesh of it as his eyes jump over each of his features.

 

Louis raises an eyebrow, and Harry flushes, before he cups Louis jaw and leans in. Their lips brush shy, tentative, and Louis smiles into it.

 

Louis asks his driver to break however many speed limits as long as he can get Harry back to his flat in the next five minutes.

 

 

 

 

 

'Of course I knew who you were,' Harry gasps as Louis sucks at his neck, leaning Harry’s body back against his door as he pushes his coat off his shoulders. 'I’m a teenage boy, I’d know your smile anywhere.' Harry breathes, Louis tugging down the zipper of his shirt.

 

Louis toes of his shoes, kicking them back as he pushes Harry’s shirt up, prompting him to raise his arms above his head and break their kiss as he strips him.

 

Louis kisses him lazily, slowly, as he grabs a handful of his bum and back steps him through his large lounge and into his bedroom. He squeezes at his arse, licking into his mouth as he steps him to the edge of the bed.

 

‘Can I fuck you?’ Louis asks, fingers mapping out the soft skin Harry bares to him, squeezing and kneading as he licks a stripe up his neck.

 

‘Why else would I be here?’ There’s mirth in his voice and Louis grins at him before pushing him back onto his bed.

 

‘Hands and knees.’ he commands, watching as Harry scrambles to obey, poising himself up with his arse in the air, toes pointed towards Louis.

 

Louis rests his palm flat between his bare shoulder blades and presses down until Harry gets the idea and his arms crumble, folding so he can rest his cheek against the bedspread. Louis hooks his fingers into Harry’s ankles socks, drawing each off slowly before he lets his hands feel the way, over the contours of his calves and the ditch of the backs of his knees, before the hills of his thighs, finally at the slope of his arse. Before he slips his fingers back down his legs and starts again.

 

Louis teases his fingers up the back of his thigh, watching the muscles twitch in anticipation. Harry shuffles to spread his knees wider, leaning his weight forward as he rests his cheek against the sheet.

 

He palms up the backs of his thighs, swiping his fingertips over the sensitive skin of the inner before he’s reaching the hem of the petal-pink skirt, edging his fingers up under the fabric. He crooks his fingers into the elastic of his briefs, pulling down so his tight pants bunch under his bum, before he can lead them down his thighs, gets him to lift his knees, one after the other, so that Louis can toss his pants off in a different direction. Harry shivers as Louis strokes his fingers over the soft skin of his arse beneath the concealment of the skirt, light and gentle.

 

He plucks at the hem of his skirt, folding it up to rest at his waist and exposing Harry’s bum. He palms at the soft flesh, squeezing the slight curve in his palm before pulling him apart slowly. Harry takes a deep breath, twitching his hips.

 

Louis drags his thumb from the bump of Harry’s tailbone down between the crease of his arse, stroking over the pink pucker of his hole.

 

‘You’re so pretty for me,’ Louis murmurs, planting a soft kiss to his arse cheek as he circles his thumb over his hole. Harry shudders on outbreath. ‘You clean?’ he breathes out over him, watching as his body clenches up with a shudder before looking down the curved line of his spine to where he’s nodding frantically, cheek smushed up against his duvet. ‘Good.’ he kisses into the crease of where his thigh meets his bum.

 

Louis’ never been one for eating out; he’s never gotten off on the feeling and he’s never had an overwhelming desire to chew on someone’s arsehole. But Harry’s pink and pretty and he looks tight and ready to come at the thought of Louis so much as touching him, cock full and flushed between his legs, so Louis licks over his lips and holds his arse open with his thumbs.

 

Harry sucks in a deep breath as Louis leans in and licks from as close his tongue can get to his sac and back, over his blushed hole. Harry moans.

 

Louis repeats, applying more pressure before he laves over Harry’s rim, using his thumbs to spread him wider so that Harry’s arse flexes with it as Louis works his tongue into a point in and runs it in circles around his muscle, tighter and tighter until his tongue is flicking at his rim.

 

He presses his tongue flat, licking wet as he spreads Harry wider so his spit goes in, licking over the soft pink of him as he moans and shifts his hips back in thrusts he tries to control.

 

He laps over his hole slowly first, then quick enough to get Harry wet with his spit as his jaw works. Harry whines, pushing back against Louis’ face as he pulls on the sheets with balled fists, his arms tense as he fends of the desire to come.

 

Louis twists his tongue in quick circles over his wet hole, his spit dripping down. He tries using a point of his tongue to press inside Harry, only getting the tip in before Harry’s body rejects it and he lets out a loud bone-rattling moan.

 

‘Oh god,’ he whimpers, pushing back as Louis sucks at his rim.

 

Louis pulls back, wiping at his cheeks and tracing his finger down the backs of Harry’s thighs again. They tremble beneath his touch.

 

‘You gonna come?’ he asks Harry, pinching at the soft dough of his inner thighs so that Harry gasps wetly. Harry nods quickly; his eyes squeezed shut with his face pressed to the duvet. Louis regards the drool slipping from the corner of his mouth and onto his spread, smiles and leans in to press a kiss to the blushing round of his arse. ‘Don’t.’

 

Harry whines against but nods, his lip tight between his teeth. ‘Good boy.’ Louis soothes with a soft pat on his bum and Harry sags back slightly, his arse glimmering in the dim light of his bedroom with Louis’ spit. ‘Stay.’ Louis commands, pressing his thumb into the crease where his bum meets thigh before he can slip off the bed.

 

In his bedside table are his condoms and his lube, used only for when he wants a slick wank, due to the lack of conquests that comes with never finding any private time to really pull. He unzips his hoodie as he plucks a condom from the box, toeing off his socks as he reaches for the lube.

 

He’s aware of Harry shuffling to turn his cheek the other way to face him, his mouth red and wet and swollen and his eyes heavy-lidded. Louis pulls his tee-shirt over his head slowly, giving Harry some time to stare before he’s untying the bow in his trackies.

 

Harry mewls in his throat as Louis pushes his joggers down his hips, wedging his fingers into the waistband of his pants. Louis can hear Harry swallow as he works his pants down, so that his cock slaps out against his stomach, wet at the tip.

 

‘Oh god,’ Harry repeats, his hips shifting back minutely.

 

Louis uncaps the slick, wetting his fingers with it before he kneels back onto the mattress behind Harry.

 

‘Ready?’ he asks, not expecting answer, before he presses the tip of his pointer to Harry’s rim, pressing until he sinks in to the first then second knuckle.

 

Harry’s hot around his digit, virginally tight as Louis works his finger deeper.

 

‘You good?’ he asks as he strokes at the silk of him slowly, one hand resting on the chub of his hip as he screws his finger left and right.

 

‘Yeah,’ comes Harry’s whimpered reply, his body rocking back slowly as Louis presses his second finger in, then his third. ‘Oh fuck,’ Harry mumbles, biting into his lip and furrowing his brow.

 

Louis works at opening him up, watching the pink of his rim stretch around to accommodate his fingers as he stretches him. Harry mews as Louis nudges at his prostate, his arse clenching and his hips bucking forward. Louis bets that Harry’s leaking all over his duvet in thick drops.

 

The crease of Harry’s arse blushes rose at the strain of taking Louis’ fingers, rim bright and stretched and Louis ducks forward to plant a kiss to the pained-looking flesh. Harry makes a cut-off sound from his chest.

 

‘Think you’re ready, baby doll?’

 

Harry opens his eyes to look up at him, dark and glittery as he runs his tongue over his lower lip and slowly dips his chin, nods.

 

Louis tears at the foil, fingers slippery with lube, as he rolls the condom down to his base. He reaches for the lube again, fingers tacky as he uncaps it and dribbles more into his palm to rub over his length. He rubs the remaining in his palm over the spread of Harry’s arse, shiny with it.

 

He guides his tip to press to Harry’s rim, pressing blunt until Harry’s body gives way and he slowly starts to sink in. Harry bites into the duvet, pulling the cover of it with his teeth as his eyes slip closed and his forehead knits into a frown.

 

‘Fuck,’ Harry gasps, shaky.

 

‘You good?’ Louis asks, steadying his hips, unwilling to hurt Harry. Harry’s jaw clenches and his fingers twitch and Louis looks down to where his rim is stretching around his girth, a pretty rosy colour. Louis reaches down and kneads at the skin with his thumb, trying to ease the strain as Harry takes it. Harry lets out a deep breath and nods slowly, meeting Louis’ eyes over the curve of his spine. Louis chews on his lip as he presses his hips deeper.

 

Harry gasps, Louis pressing until his hips meet the soft skin of his bum. ‘Need a moment;’ Harry whimpers, ‘you’re very big.’

 

Louis nods and bites deeper into his lower lip as his fingers twitch where they grip his hips. He presses his thumbs into the dough of his arse, his fingertips digging into his hips with the effort of staying still, body tingling to press Harry into the mattress and fuck him until he’s screaming and sobbing.

 

‘Okay, oh god,’ Harry moans, shifting his hips back and nudging Louis deeper. Louis nods and draws his hips back slowly before he can press back in. Harry snuffs softly as Louis repeats, drawing out completely before slowly thrusting back in.

 

He drags his fingers up, pressing his thumbs into the dimples at the base of his spine as he pulls back and thrusts forward painfully slow.

 

‘Can I go faster baby doll? Can you handle it?’ Louis coos, brushing his hands under the bunched up fabric of his skirt. He runs his knuckle down the arch of his spine, down to where he splits into the crease of his arse, where he stretches around Harry’s cock.

 

‘Yeah,’ Harry whimpers.

 

Louis nods, draws his hips back, presses in. He grabs at Harry’s arse, pulling in opposite directions to spread him open as he starts an easy rhythm of fucking Harry. He digs his fingers into the pillow of his bum and he fucks into him, pressing his thumbs into the skin as his hips slap against Harry’s arse with soft smacks.

 

Harry whimpers when Louis gives a harder thrust, his hips rocking forward with it and his eyes squeezing shut. Louis pulls out.

 

Harry’s eyes spring open instantly, his lips forming to ask if he’s done something wrong, and Louis cuts off his thought with: ’Can you turn over for me sweetheart?

 

Harry pushes himself up on his arms, leaning his weight back until he’s kneeling, gravity pulling his skirt back down in a crinkled, pleated mess. He gingerly leans forward before twisting to sit on his bum, knees bent and thighs spread wide to invite Louis in.

 

He looks a picture, his nipples a dark pink against his flushed chest, synthetic pink fabric pinching his waist in and doing little for the obscene bulge of his cock in his lap, wet spot dark where his head is leaking. His legs are soft and smooth, begging for Louis to dig his teeth into the soft on his upper tighs. His eyes are heavy and lined with dark eyelashes, his lips bitten red and swollen and hair a mess. He lets himself drop from resting on his elbows to flat on his back, his hair fanning out as he draws his knees closer to his chest.

 

Louis sets his hands on Harry’s shins, running up to his knees with light touch, pressing his knees wider before he lets his hands grope up his inner thighs.

 

He shuffles closer to the crux of Harry’s splayed legs, reaching to palm over where he bulges out at the front of the skirt, crushing the heel of his palm down over the spot of wet, pressing his cockhead down against his stomach. Harry whines, his hips fucking up as his back arches off the mattress slightly.

 

‘Louis,’ Harry whines, leaning up on his elbows as Louis leans down, pressing their lips together in a kiss.

 

‘Yes, princess?’ Louis kisses to his raw mouth, soft and gentle as he palms at Harry’s cock. Harry’s toes point against the duvet.

 

‘Fuck me already.’

 

Louis kisses his mouth open, sucking Harry’s tongue into his mouth as his pushes his skirt up his thighs, bunching it up at the waistband. When he pulls back, Harry’s mouth is wet and Louis can finally get a good look at his cock, flushed and full against his stomach, dribbling at the tip with his sac drawn tight.

 

Louis skirts his knuckles up the spine, just to see Harry shudder and gasp, whine his name again.

 

Louis holds himself steady at the base, pressing his head at Harry’s hole while he balances with one hand pressed flat to the mattress beside Harry’s waist. Harry’s body accepts him faster this time, and now when Louis' hips finally rest against the curve of Harrys bum, Harry’s heel is digging into the base of his spine.

 

Harry lets out a long moan as Louis draws out and thrusts back in, purposefully grazing the head of his cock against his spot. This position makes it more difficult for Louis to aim his cock to hit Harrys prostate and he knows it’s going to be harder to fuck him fast, but it lets him reach between them and reach for Harry’s cock, his fingers fitting loosely under his head as his thumb swipes in circles around his slit, so that Harry reaches for him and wraps his arms around his neck, his blunt nails pressing into the taut skin between Louis' shoulder blades as Louis works at balancing on his elbow while teasing Harry’s sensitive cock head and driving quickening thrusts into his body.

 

Harry digs his nails in Louis back, presses deeper and scrapes down so that Louis clenches his teeth, gives Harry a hard punishing thrust that sounds through the room, Harry’s moan loud and lewd.

 

Harry reaches down to grab at Louis bum, his spindly fingers covering more than one cheek as he grips onto Louis and pulls him in deeper as Louis bites his lip from the burn of holding position while fucking Harry.

 

Louis fucks him hard and fast, so that Harry’s head falls back against the pillow and his mouth splits down the middle, lips shiny with spit as a loud moan wracks out his throat. Harry’s thighs bracket his hips, and Louis’ knuckles knock between their stomachs as he as teases Harry’s cockhead enough to makes Harry’s cheeks turn a pink bright enough to match his silky tip.

 

His skirt is hot and irritating as it rubs against Louis chest, itching at the sparse hair of his chest, tickling at his tightened nipples. Harry scratches a long line down his back as his nails dig into the cheek of his arse as Louis beats his thrusts out, skin loud and crude in the silence of the late night and silence of his flat.

 

Louis dips his thumb into Harry’s slit and Harry scrabbles to twist his fingers in Louis' hair, whimpering as he pulls Louis to kiss him by his hair, tangling his tongue with Louis' as his body jerks and he whimpers in his chest, hips shuddering.

 

'Wanna come sweetheart?' Louis kisses next to his mouth, and Harry just nods, pulling on his hair and digging his nails into his arse as Louis gives all his effort and energy into fucking Harry, his strokes short and quick as he tightens his grip on his cock and starts to wank him quickly and properly, enough to make Harry whine and spew out his name, over and over.

 

Harry’s heel digs in right at the bottom of his spine, holding him deep as his back arches off the bed and he mewls high, his thighs spasming and jaw gone slack as he comes over Louis' fingers, up his chest, rubbing into the crumpled fabric of his skirt.

 

Louis slows as he fucks him through it, slowing to an idle rock as Harry’s fingertips twitch where they're clinging to his arse.

 

'Fuck,' he whimpers once he forces his eyes open, and Louis notices how he’s gone a hint distant in them, but still bright. 'You're amazing.' Harry gasps, surging in to plant his mouth to Louis' in a breathless kiss.

 

'You're beautiful,' Louis tells him, smiling as Harry peppers kisses over his jaw. Harry giggles at that, breathy, before the boy clenches his arse around him and Louis moans.

 

'Come for me.' Harry kisses under his ear, and Louis leans to kiss his neck, under his Adam's apple, again in the hollow between his collarbones, before he can let himself grab at Harry’s thigh, pushing up so his thigh is at his chest, pulling his body tighter and allowing Louis more leverage.

 

He squeezes his eyes shut, sweat dripping at his hairline as he clings to the crumpled sheets and Harry’s sweat slick thigh, rabbiting his hips inside Harry’s spamsing body.

 

He draws his eyes open when Harry’s vice on his arse lets up, and he’s greeted to the sight of Harry wrapping his lips around his index finger, lips swollen and puffy and he sucks hard enough for his cheeks to hollow.

 

Louis is close, and the image pulls him in closer, his brow furrowing as his hips slam against Harry’s bum, which must be rosebud red at this point.

 

He watches as Harry draws his finger from his lips and teasingly swipes his tongue over the skin of it before his hand is out of sight and he can feel Harry’s palm on his arse, spreading him open before he index finger is edging inside of him, and that’s enough for Louis' eyes to slip and his jaw to clench as he comes with a loud moan of Harry’s name, his hips bucking messily as Harry’s tight little body milks him.

 

'Fuck' Louis pants, right into the crook of Harry’s neck where he’s damp and salty with sweat.

 

'Yeah,' Harry agrees, chest falling quick as he brings his hands back up to Louis' hair, threading through and pinching at the sweaty strands.

 

He pulls Louis into a deep kiss of wet breaths and stunted giggles, Harry kissing along Louis' jaw and down his neck before back, to plant a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth.

 

'Are you going to kick me out?' Harry asks after Louis pulls out, leaving him sagging with the unpleasant feeling of emptiness as Louis ties up the condom and flicks it toward the bin.

 

'Never,' Louis yawns, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks at Harry, legs spread open lazily and tangled in the bedspread, lube making his blushing, exposed hole shiny. He's at least somewhat attempted to pull the skirt down, now at least covering the top half of his cock and tickling the top of his left thigh. He scratches a hand through his sweat-matted curls lazily, yawning into his own palm after Louis, 'should probably get you out of your little skirt though,' He eyes the come splatters over the fabric and where its dark from his leaking cock, before he adds: 'should pop it in the wash.'

 

Harry smiles at him sleepily and giggles softly as Louis shoos him off the bed, peeling back the duvet and wrinkling his nose at the lube and come and sweat spotting the deep grey cover, before he slips in.

 

He smiles at Harry, watching as he turns his back to him, his fingers pulling down the plastic tongue of the zipper before he shimmies the stiff fabric down his hips, showing off the sweet curve of his arse and the supple flesh of his hips and thighs, his spine poking knobbles against his skin. Harry wipes over his tummy with the bunched up fabric, wiping away his cooling come.

 

Louis pats the mattress next to him, snuffs out a breath so that Harry turns back to face him and grins before he's slipping into bed next to Louis, letting Louis draw him into his front, wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist and pulling Harry back against his chest. Harry shadows Louis' arm with his own, wriggling back into his hold as Louis links his chin over his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to his neck before they sag together and fall asleep in position.

 

 

 

 

 

And in the morning, when Louis should feel bashful as he slips Harry the discretion form with a ballpoint pen, Harry smiling easily as he signs his name in swirling cursive before he gives Louis a sweet kiss and they stumble into the shower, Harry scrubbing over Louis’ skin and Louis massaging his fingers in Harry’s hair before Harry slips onto his knees.

 

And maybe Louis should feel a bit awkward as he gives Harry a white shirt and watches him button it up before he pulls on his dirty skirt, the dried mess of come not awfully obvious, zipping it up and making a poor attempt at tucking the shirt in at the front, the sleeves bundled up in his fists.

 

And perhaps he should feel a bit silly when he offers to make Harry breakfast and halfway through he gets the strong urge to hoist Harry onto the counter and fuck him with his back against the granite, but then Harry actually lets him pluck him up and push his skirt up around his waist and fuck him until he’s shaking, their French toast burnt afterward.

 

And maybe he shouldn’t feel so hopeful when he slips Harry his number, but then Harry grins at him and kisses the corner of his mouth, ruffled and cheeks glowing with his orgasm as he nods his head.

 

‘Goodbye, Louis who works in the entertainment industry. I’ll see you soon.’


End file.
